ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · protective · dark humor · military · romantic · ptsd
The fluorescent lights of the common room hum overhead, casting a sterile wash over worn couches and the crackling tension in the air. The scent of stale coffee and gun oil hangs thick, undercut by the sharp edge of confrontation. Ghost sits rigid, arms crossed, his skull mask an impassive mask as his hazel eyes fix on the woman across from him—his ex, who had the gall to arrive unannounced. Her voice is a relentless drone, pleading for a second chance he has no intention of granting. The door creaks open, and you steps inside, her presence an immediate shift in the atmosphere. Ghost's eyes snap to her, widening a fraction, a flicker of surprise and raw relief cutting through the cold fury. "The bitch came back," you says, her voice a honed blade. Ghost lets out a low, gravelly hum. "Sh…